


dots and stripes

by jockohomo



Series: i'm wide awake, it's morning. [6]
Category: Death Note (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Fluff, Movie Night, Multi, Polyamory, Post-2020 One-Shot, Post-Canon, idk i just wanted an excuse to write matsuidezawa again
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-21
Updated: 2020-03-21
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:01:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23251366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jockohomo/pseuds/jockohomo
Summary: The date is March 15, 2020. Ide, Matsuda, and Aizawa spend some time together.
Relationships: Aizawa Shuuichi/Ide Hideki, Aizawa Shuuichi/Ide Hideki/Matsuda Touta, Aizawa Shuuichi/Matsuda Touta, Ide Hideki/Matsuda Touta
Series: i'm wide awake, it's morning. [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1070025
Comments: 4
Kudos: 15





	dots and stripes

**Author's Note:**

> wow, it's been months since i wrote any task force fic... seemed liked about time to change that!
> 
> content warning for mentions of death and also tr*mp because he exists in death note now for some reason. this is a super tame fic, though.

“ _Ow_!”

Ide’s body momentarily jolted underneath him, pale skin shrinking away from Matsuda’s hands before meeting them again. He heard the other man sharply intaking air through his teeth and drew back slightly.

“Relax, Hideki, I told you to _relax_ ,” he muttered with a pout. “If you keep tensing up like that you’re just going to get hurt.”

“I’m already getting hurt!” Ide’s voice was high with pain and indignation. “You’re going to give me _worse_ back pain at this rate. Christ.”

“It’s not my fault you can’t relax when I ask you to, you know.”

“I _was_ relaxed, goddammit.”

“Was not.”

“Was too.”

“Was not.”

“Was — ”

“What are you two arguing about?” Aizawa called as he emerged from the kitchen, shoving the door open with his foot. His arms were wrapped around an almost comically large bowl of sweet-smelling popcorn and his mouth was pulled into a disapproving frown. He looked ridiculous, in his green-striped night clothes and slippers, but both of his companions turned red with embarrassment nonetheless. Matsuda rose his hands away from Ide’s back like a bankrobber in surrender and dropped fully back into the couch cushions.

Grinning awkwardly, “I was, uh — ”

“He was _playing chiropractor_.”

“You _asked me to_!” 

“No, I _agreed to_ because you wouldn’t stop telling me how annoying it was when I complained about my back,” Ide muttered, sliding down off the ottoman to rest on his knees. “And look how well that worked out.”

“Stuff a sock in it, you two,” Aizawa interrupted. He approached the couch, setting the bowl down where Ide had been lying before. “Hideki, maybe you ought to see an actual chiropractor instead of letting Touta get experimental with your spine.”

“That costs money.”

“We’re not exactly poor.” Aizawa seated himself and gave an inviting pat to the space between himself and Matsuda, pulling the bowl back into his lap. 

“But we’re not rich either, are we?” Ide muttered, standing and following Aizawa’s invitation.

“Just think of it this way.” Matsuda leaned forwards, holding up a finger. “If you spend money on a chiropractor, I won’t have to listen to you complain anymore. Don’t you wanna make me happy, baby?”

Ide threw a piece of popcorn at Matsuda, blushing furiously. “Don’t call me baby.”

“Hey, do that again!” The younger man opened his mouth and pointed a finger at it. “Try to throw one into my mouth.”

Ide threw a piece at Matsuda’s nose. It bounced off and landed on the carpet.

“Ow!”

“That definitely didn’t hurt.”

“So, have you two decided on a movie yet?” Aizawa interjected.

“No,” Matsuda answered, leaning over Ide. “We figured we’d just look at whatever’s on Netflix and then decide. Oh, can you give the popcorn to Hidek? I don’t want to have to reach across him every time I want to get some.”

“Yeah, no thank you,” Ide said as Aizawa handed the bowl off to him. He glanced back over. “Do you care what we watch, Shuichi?”

“Not really.” Aizawa reached for the remote. “I want to see what’s on the news first, though.”

“Oh, come _on_ ,” Matsuda groaned. “We already know what they’re going to be talking about, Shuichi. Please?”

“It’ll just be a moment.”

The screen of the television jumped alight with color. It had been left conveniently on the correct channel, where some pretty young woman was seated in front of a blue screen. The headline was the same as it had been that morning; a Pakistani politician had died of a heart attack earlier that day, and of course some fingers had been pointed at the United States.

“I don’t think they did it,” Aizawa said, finally.

Matsuda glanced at him. “You don’t?”

“No.” Aizawa shook his head. “I was looking into him earlier, and I don’t see any reason he’d be particularly threatening. People are just eager to accuse the US whenever anyone dies, nowadays.”

“I swear, this whole thing is giving me gray hairs,” Ide said with a sigh.

“It definitely is,” Matsuda agreed. “You shouldn’t be complaining about that too much, though, Hideki. You look fine.”

“Wow, thanks. Hey, Shuichi, can we change it now? I think they’re about to play Trump’s response again and his voice makes me depressed.”

Aizawa grunted noncommittally and did as requested. Within a few moments, the screen had switched and Netflix had begun to load. The room was quiet.

After a moment, Matsuda cleared his throat. Both of his partners turned to look at him, and he apparently regretted drawing attention to himself because his cheeks began to turn red.

“Is something up, Touta?” Ide asked, finally.

“I mean, no, not really.” Matsuda paused. “Well, kind of. I’ve just been thinking about the whole ‘selling the death note’ thing for a while, you know? And I just … I don’t know. Don’t you think it’s kind of my fault, what happened?”

Ide’s eyebrows furrowed. “Oh, come on, Touta, why would it be your fault? You’re not the one who brought the damn thing here, and you’re not the one who sold it, either.”

“Well, yeah, I know that.” Matsuda sighed, crossing his arms over his chest and seeming to almost deflate where he sat. “But when I showed up at Sakura TV, that lent credibility to the whole thing, didn’t it? If I hadn’t done that, then maybe people wouldn’t have believed it. The world might not be stuck in this whole mess.”

Aizawa grimaced.

“That doesn’t mean anything.” Ide shook his head. “Think about it this way. Let’s say you _didn’t_ show up at Sakura TV and no one believed the thing. Obviously the seller wanted their money — they’d probably pull a similar stunt to what the Second Kira did and have people die at a projected time to prove it to everyone. Someone who’s willing to sell a murder weapon like that wouldn’t have any problems with killing one or two people to get what they want. You wouldn’t want that either, would you?”

“... I guess not,” Matsuda conceded quietly. “I don’t know. What do you think, Shuichi?”

Aizawa paused and glanced to Ide, who met his gaze through narrowed eyes. Finally, he said, “Hideki is right. There’s no use beating yourself up over that, anyway.”

Matsuda looked down at his lap. “Huh. Okay.”

Ide rested a hand tentatively on his shoulder. “Really. Don’t worry about it.”

“Totally. Yeah.” Matsuda straightened back up and shot Ide a shaky smile. “I’m not about to cry. It’s fine. Um… What do you think you want to watch, Shuichi? Seriously, I don’t really care either way.”

“Hm. Let’s see… How about _Love Is Blind_?”

Ide glared at him. “I’m going to cough all over this fucking popcorn.”

**Author's Note:**

> https://sugurushimura.tumblr.com/


End file.
